The Selection: the story of America and Maxon after the marriage
by Band4life15
Summary: In the One, America and Maxon got their happy ending. But what about after the ending of the first three books? What happens then?
1. Chapter 1

The sun kissed the horizon for the first time today as I stretched my arms and shifted up into what technically counted as a sitting position. I glimpsed over at Maxon and the world seemed like a much better placed now that I was married. _I'm the queen of Illéa._ Oh my god. Well, I've been up long enough, time to ruin Maxon's day-I mean, wake him up.

"Maxon, time to get up, come on. You've got a country to rule," I whispered into his ear, trying to leave the nagging wife voice out of my voice, shaking him slightly. He shifted, moaned, and rolled over. Grrr.

"Come on, Maxon. Get up," I spoke a bit more forcefully, shaking him harder. He. Still. Slept. He's getting on my bad side.

"Maxon, Come O-," I started speaking, frustration and nagging wife dripping into my voice, when he suddenly moved into a sitting position, torso exposed, and captured my lips. His smile beamed under my lips and I pulled away.

"How long have you been awake?" I demanded, a half- grin still spread across my face.

"About a half an hour before you shook me the first time," Maxon responded, pleased by his little stunt.

"What—but how—why didn't you wake me up?" I stammered, shoving him towards the edge of the bed in the king's suite we now shared.

"America, you were too cute, how you snored softly while you were sleeping, I couldn't bear to wake you up," Maxon shifted closer to me, slightly shivering from the cold window that he slept near.

Speechless, I stuttered out some nonsensical words that Maxon must have taken to mean that I was pleased. He tackled me on the football- field sized bed, showering me in kisses, and getting me in my ticklish spot at the base of my neck. My shrieks of pleasure satisfied him, and he settled down beside me again.

"Well, time to get to work," Maxon sighed unhappily, clambering over me to our bathroom. He pulled the door opened, and started to go inside, then stuck his head outside the door and bit his lip.

"Um, last night, I told my servants that I'd be fine, but-," Maxon grinned nervously, afraid to say it.

"Let me guess, you can't turn the shower on yourself," I said with an amused look on my face. He shook his head.

"So, can you turn it on for me?" he asked with a cock of his head.

"Come on you. Pathetic," I exclaimed, jokingly as I shook my head and left the warmth of the bed to sidle past him into the bathroom, but he caught me by the hips and dipped me into a kiss. I laughed and moved into the bathroom.

"Okay, so, first, you turn this knob to the left to get the water warm. Once it's warm you pull up this," Here I stopped and pointed to small screw- like thing poking out the top of the faucet. "And then your shower's all ready to go," I finished off, stood up, brushed the water off my nightgown, and turned around to see the scars on his back his late father gave him.

"Will you need me to redress your wounds after you get out?"

"I think I'll be fine, dear," he said, climbing into the shower.

"Don't you start with that whole 'dear' nonsense!" I narrowed my eyes, then swayed out of the room as gracefully as I could when wearing a nearly sheer short nightgown. As I rang the bell for my new maids to come and help me get dressed, I could hear the rainfall from the shower slowly come to a stop.

"Wait! Leave it on, please," I ran back into the bathroom and jumped into the shower just as the water hit me, melting me into a puddle.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," I sighed, both warm and pleased that Maxon knew me so well already. The shower trickled to an end after 5 or so minutes, and I climbed out to go get dressed. My maids- Mary, Shelli, and Tina- were standing there, my day dress laid out on the bed behind them. _Maxon must have moved into his study next door_ , I thought as Mary helped get the dress on, and pinned it in properly. When I was ready, I thanked my maids, sent them back downstairs, and went into Maxon's study.

"Hey! Get out!" Maxon started then glanced upward. "Oh. Sorry, America. I thought you were someone else." He smiled sheepishly, and then glanced down at his paperwork.

"Do you mean someone better?" I said, mock offended.

"What? No! I would never-," Maxon said, but then he stopped when he saw my smile. I sat down beside him, gently laying a hand on his back. I felt him tense up, but then relaxed.

"Time for breakfast," my hands guided him out of his chair and out the door. He slumped in my arms, and I moved his face to mine and kissed it.

"Do you know what's for breakfast?" his voice barely reached my ears, but still I heard it.

"Nope. Why, do I look like the head chef?" I responded with a laugh. We laughed together and headed downstairs to enjoy a private breakfast.

Our mornings continued like this for the next 2 months, as my maids and I watched my stomach every day. After I was certain, I told Maxon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, hannahlily15 here. Sorry about that last cliff hanger. Actually, no, I'm not. He he he. This is actually a story I wrote for school, but loved doing it so much I thought I'd share it.**

"What? But how? Wait. I'm going to be a father?" Maxon spoke, startled. He paced the room, but then stopped and laid his hands on my stomach, still mostly flat under my flow-y top, but my jeans were getting harder to squeeze into.

"It's going to be okay, Maxon. I have my maids already making maternity clothes, and I've drawn up plans for the nursery. I've also seen my mom go through her pregnancy with Gerad. I know what is going to happen," I spoke softly, already tired for the day, and it wasn't even 11:00.

"But I've never had experience with a younger sibling! I don't even know how to care for a baby," Maxon uttered, now appearing like a small child. "Like, will you need extra nourishment? When should we tell the public? Do you want your mom to move in with us? What can I do to make you more comfortable?"

"In answer to your questions, Yes; after the first trimester; Yes; give me more hours of sleep and just support me through the birth," I finished off and kissed him sweetly.

"Thank you. Do you want me to call in the royal doctor?" He bit his lip, sat down beside me, and I loved him even more for trying so hard.

"Sure. And I think we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl around 3 months," I answered, seeing the question posed on his lips. He nodded and then set out on his mission to find a doctor. I walked into the bathroom, dampened a washcloth, and went to lay down on the bed with the washcloth over my eyes. The doctor sauntered in after about 30 minutes, and proceeded to fully check me out with Maxon behind him, fretting and pacing the room.

"Well," the doctor spoke as he stood up straight, finished with his examination.

"You will be proud parents in 7 months or so to a fine, healthy baby, if nothing goes wrong," the doctor simply stated as Maxon and I glanced at each other, beaming.

"I want you to take it easy. No public statements, no to anything else that could take away from this child being born alive. Sleep, my dear girl. You're strong; you'll make it through," he finished, exiting the room.

"Why does everyone insist on calling me 'dear'?" My blood warmed up by the doctor's words, then chilled at the thought of actually bring this child into the world. But then sleep overcame me. I distantly felt Maxon kissing my forehead and pulling up the covers to cloak me in warmth.

The months passed by, with my stomach expanding every day. At the four-month mark, we revealed to the population that I was pregnant. I believe everybody has been praying for an heir to the throne, and brothers for him. After that, Maxon discovered the gender of the baby, but I wanted to be surprised. At five or six months, I couldn't fit into my usual clothes, and began to wear the maternity outfits my maids had developed.

Now, I was eight months in. I was still irresistibly tired in the afternoons, but the morning sickness had passed a while back. Maxon was still overly protective, and frequently called the doctor to check on me and to ensure I was fine. He didn't leave on any diplomatic missions, and asked me to sit with him in his office in the morning, before I got too tired.

"Maxon, you have to let me redo the castle. It's falling to pieces from being unorganized," I begged, dying for something else to do before the baby came.

"Is the nursery finished? Is the staff briefed? Have you chosen the baby's nurse? Is the doctor happy in his temporary suite? Can he come at any moment?" Maxon bombarded me, trying to steer around me reorganizing the castle.

"Yes; Yes; Yes; Yes; and Yes. Maxon, you asked me those same questions yesterday. Come on, please! It would keep me busy till Jonathan/ Sabrin comes. I'm just so bored sitting here," I pleaded, gesturing violently to my surroundings.

"Only if you swear to keep Mary, Shelli, or Tina to keep with you wherever you go," Maxon turned his gaze on me, his eyes searching for an answer.

"Yes! Anything to get out of here!" I nearly leaped out of my chair, and raced to the door as fast as I could.

"Whoa, slow down! You're still pregnant here," Maxon walked to me and wrapped his arms around me. "You do need to take it easy!"

"Yes, I know, I know. I'm just tired of sitting beside you every single day. Not that I don't love you or anything!" I backpedaled quickly when I glimpsed upward and saw his 'annoyed' face. "It's just tiring watching you pass bill after bill, while I do nothing."

Maxon nodded, then pulled the servant's bell, calling for Mary. I grinned, and when Mary stood in the doorway, I pulled her away, explaining everything. Maxon leaned out the door, waved goodbye, and then turned back to his work.


	3. Chapter 3

"Go get Maxon! Tell him he or she is coming!" I gasped, sending Shelli scurrying down the hallway to Maxon. Mary supported me, guiding me to the birthing bed we'd set up last week from my bedroom. Tina called the doctor from his suite next door. Mary lowered me on to the bed just as the doctor came flying through the door, his hair disheveled. He quickly assessed the situation as he whipped out his tools and started to help me get this child out of me. Shelli ran through the doorway, closely followed by Maxon, who dropped into a chair beside me, grasping my hand.

"It's going to be alright, Maxon," I whispered words of encouragement to him, his face pale. My face contorted into a look of pain as a contraction washed over me.

"Don't worry about me; you need to focus on our child," Maxon softly scolded me.

"Okay, America, you need to push," the doctor spoke over my pains, and I obliged meekly.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaah!" I screamed, unable to hold back.

"Slowly now, America, the head is nearly out," the doctor's gentle hands probed. But I couldn't stop the momentum I'd started.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuggggghhhh!" I pushed my hardest, felt a _whoosh,_ and for the first time in who knows how many months, I took a deep breath in. A strong cry pierced the air around me, as the doctor quickly examined the child for signs of anything wrong. Maxon wrapped the baby up in warm blankets and pass him/ her to me while the doctor spoke to us.

"Ten fingers, ten toes, and a cry to bring back Halloween. Congratulations, America and Maxon. You are the proud parents of a fine, healthy baby boy," my jaw dropped as the doctor revealed the gender to me, and I turned my head up to Maxon to see him smiling down at me. We gently kissed, and turned our attention back to Doctor Jeremy.

"You will need to sleep this off, and Maxon, I need you to fill out the birth certificate," the doctor gestured to an assistant, who rushed forward with a clipboard full of forms, shoved it in Maxon's arms, and darted back into the shadows. "What will you name him?"

"Jonathan," we spoke as one, uttering the name we had agreed on months ago if the child were to be a boy.

"If you could just fill out there, there, and there, then you'll be good to go. America, I want you to take this calcium pill once a day for 3 days. It should bring your levels back to normal. I will stay here, if it pleases you, Your Majesties, for the next 3 to 6 months, to ensure the babe is healthy. If you'll excuse me," the doctor concluded, bowing his way out the door. Maxon turned to me, still holding Jonathan in one arm and the paperwork in another.

"America, we're parents! And to such a fine, healthy baby boy…" he trailed off, gazing into his new son's undetermined blue-gray eyes. "You were wonderful, and so strong. You did me, and Illéa, proud today. I'm going to go send out the cards saying we had a boy to the other nations, and tell the royal sharp shooter to fire 300 rounds for Jonathan. Then I'll reschedule all of my appointment for the next week to a later date, so we can spend the week together, learning this new roll," Maxon finished his monologue, then marched quadruple- time out the door and down the hall to his office, leaving me to get to know this wonderful bundle of joy that God had given me, but was now shrieking in despair. Quickly remembering what Mom did with Gerad after he was born, I pulled Jonathan closer to my chest and he started to suckle, content.

"Mary?"

"Yes, America?" Mary paused, in the midst of tidying up the birthing room.

"I need you and my other maids to decide who assist me in feeding, changing, and bathing Prince Jonathan. I hope to give him brothers and sisters soon, and each time we can rotate which maid helps me."

"Of course, America. Should I let you know of a decision by tomorrow?"

"Yes, definitely." I peered down at Jonathan, finished with his first meal, and put him up to my shoulder. I rubbed his back gently, and he let out three small burps, quick in succession. I grinned at him, and he curled his own little mouth into an unmistakable smile. Jonathan's little fingers gripped my pointer finger as his eyelids dropped lower and lower, until he was gently sleeping. I carefully stood up, still slightly woozy from the birth, and cradled him as I glided over to the ornate crib and laid him down softly on his back. I then slumped down in the cushioned rocking chair beside Jonathan, falling into the depths of sleep myself.


	4. Chapter 4

"America! America! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" I jolted awake and leaped to my feet, ready to fire person (except my maids) who had woken me up. Instead, I saw Maxon standing in front of me, breathing heavily, yet waving papers around ecstatically.

"What," I growled, slightly unhappy, but I leaned into him anyway.

"I've done it! I just signed the order that demolishes the Eight caste. Now, it will take time, but I will remove the rest of the standings over the course of 7 years; primarily one per year," Maxon kissed me hard, then started pacing around and around the nursery, muttering to himself. Jonathan, now awake from his father's jubilant shouts, sobbed quietly. I picked him up, and had a momentary lapse. _What did Mother do right after Gerad woke up in the first couple of days, crying?_ Right, she softly rocked him back and forth, using her body's warmth to soothe him. I cradled Jojo (I think that what I'll call him from now on), softly crooning a lullaby to make him fall back asleep. Maxon had stopped pacing by this point, and he now walked over to me and put his arms around Jojo and me and started to sing along.

"Swiftly you will visit/ the beautiful, the/ shooores/ of sleeeeeeeeeeep." We gently sang the last line together, and Maxon delicately took Jonathan from my arms, and laid him back down in the crib. Apparently, Maxon must have learned that lullaby from his mother as well. Just one more person that I believe should be here with us, celebrating. Without saying a word, Maxon grabbed my hands, and giddily waltzed me out the door and down the steps to the Woman's Room, where I hadn't held court for a month or so.

"America, if you want, you can invite the girls from the Elite to come visit you for as long as you like. And, of course, May and your mom," Maxon's husky voice tickled the hairs above my ear as he invited the Elite and my family back into the castle.

"Really, Maxon!? That would be wonderful," I twirled out of his arms, giddy with the glee of getting to see my old rivals. The late Queen Amberly was right; those girls have become my best friends.

"But first, I believe I promised you an afternoon with just the two of us," Maxon stopped me from spinning, his green eyes sparkling.

"Sounds great! First though, could we get some sleep? It is 1 am," I drooped in his arms, suddenly exhausted from the birth, and the moments after it. "We can have Shelli, Tina, and Mary do two hour shifts throughout this first night."

"Sounds like we have a plan. Come on; let's get you up to bed. You must be beyond exhausted," Maxon guided me up the steps, and back through the maze of rooms to the king's suite. On our way in, I reached over Maxon's shoulders and tugged the bell, ringing for my ladies maids and his gentlemen. I sat down heavily on the bed and watched through nearly closed eyes, Maxon pulling out a frilly nightgown for me and a long shirt and baggy pants for him. As our maids arrived, we separated, my maids changing me on the side closer to the bathroom; his gentlemen helping him out of his daywear and into his pajamas on the other side. We finished at the same time, and, dismissing our own maids, I hopped in bed first, and then Maxon monkeyed over me and laid down beside me, pulling me into his warm, safe arms. Feeling secure, I allowed the waves of sleep to wash upon me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Band here: Sorry it's been for. e. ver. I had an extremely busy fall, with my band winning ACCs and all that jazz that when with that. I'll try to update on a regular basis now that we started working on it in school again. This insert goes in the last update that I posted, and ends where the previous one did. Thanks for waiting!**

 **Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own America or any of the characters. Except for little Jojo. and Shelli and Tina.**

"A…ica? Ame…a? America, are you there?" Maxon's concerned face cleared in front of my eyes, and I looked past him to see most of the palace staff, most showing signs of worry, confusion, or despair. But then I was crushed in Maxon's bear hug.

"Oh my gosh, I was so worried…I thought you'd died," Maxon broke down, sobbing into my shoulder. But all I could manage was a groggy:

"Whhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttt?"

"America, you don't know?" He pulled back, studying my face.

"Know what?" Quizzically, I stared back, my brain half- knowing, but refusing to believe it.

He shrugged his shoulders and stated blankly, "You've been out for three days."

My jaw dropped. _Three days?! How could I be out that long without knowing it? And why?_ An ear- splitting shriek rang out in the dead silent room. _Jojo! That was it. I didn't get to fall asleep for very long after I gave birth, and my body needed that recovery time._ Jonathan was passed to me, and he suckled happily under my loose gown, pleased to get his mother's milk once more. **(A/N:Does that sound too creepy? I'm not sure that I like that wording. Please respond** ;) **)**

"Excuse me, miss?" Tina poked her head into my room. Maxon almost shooed her out, but I stopped him, as I think she had the schedule that I had asked the three of them to work out.

"Tina, how many times do I have to ask you? Please don't call me 'miss'. I was once almost one of you, and I am not better than you in any way, shape or form. We are equals." I tried to keep my voice and body steady and commanding, yet non-threatening, but my body wasn't listening to my brain, and I slumpt back into my pillows.

"Okay, miss—I mean, America. Sorry, this will take a little getting used to." For some reason, she sounded like she had to apologize, or risk eternal wrath from someone. Maybe her mother, perhaps? "However, I do have the schedule ready for you, but I do have one question: will you be hiring a nanny at any point?"

"No." I pointedly stated.

"Yes." Maxon turned and glared me.

"Maxon, I don't want Jonathan to grow up feeling like his parents are some far-off idols. He deserves to know what true, unconditional love is, before his Selection comes around. And, by the way, I grew up without a nanny and look how I turned out." Maxon arched an eyebrow as a joke at my last sentence. I tilted my head and glared at him harder.

"While what you said is somewhat true, I don't want you to overwork yourself with this child's every need. You are my queen, and we run this country together. And, the same way you grew up fine without a nanny, I grew up perfect with one. This isn't Carolina, America. Things have to change once you're in the palace." Maxon sighed and sat down beside me on the bed. I sat up and leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around me.

"Listen, how about we compromise? I take care of Jonathan during the day, and then we hire a nanny for the nighttime shift. That way, I still feel like I'm a big part of his life, but I can sleep at night."

"Fine, but the nanny also stays for during the day, just in case you can't come, or there's an attack of some sort, or we're out." Maxon relents, and I feel like I've won a major, though very short, war.

"Deal."

Cheering erupted in the room, as the multitudes below were informed I had awaken. Maxon jumped and spun around at the first sounds, trying to discover the source. Then he looked over his shoulder, and grinned brightly.

"The people love you."

The months flew by, with Jojo getting taller, smarter, and handsomer with each one passing by. We passed his six-month birthday a couple months ago, and the day after that… well, you'll see.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come on, faster, slow poke!" Maxon cried out cheerfully, grabbing my hand and a mysterious basket from the cook, and pulled me through the palace hallways and out past the garden into the woods. I laughed and let him drag me, putting up just enough struggle for it to be fun. Glancing behind me, Jojo looked forlorn from his bedroom window, with his nanny, Allala, in the shadows just behind him, ready to pull him back when he began crying or at the first sign of danger. Maxon suddenly stopped, and I bounced off of him, hard, and we both tumbled to the ground, where a padded checkered blanket laid. Uncontrollably giggling, I scooted over onto the blanket, and watched Maxon unpacked the basket, laying out sandwiches, cranberry lime German Federation soda, and –

"What's a picnic without the chocolate-covered strawberries?" Maxon spoke with a flourish, laying out the strawberries with a note of triumph in his voice. "And I believe I once promised you an afternoon alone. Well, here it is. I've got horses saddled to go riding for a while, and later I-" I silenced his rambling with a delicate kiss. It was the only way to.

"Maxon, this—it's perfect! I couldn't have asked for a better afternoon. And it's amazing how you managed to keep this from me for so long. But can we eat already? I'm starving!" We laughed together, and dove in.

40 minutes later, most of the food was on its magical journey to our stomachs, and we were both sinking our teeth into our first strawberry each.

"Mmm! Oh m mm, Mm-m, m m mmmm mm! Mmmm, mmn! *" I spoke through the strawberry, savoring its taste.

"I know! I couldn't ask for a better cook!" Maxon spoke, already reaching for the next strawberry. We finished off those strawberries in 10 minutes, savoring each one, but at the same time, ready for the next. Maxon packed up the picnic basket while I folded the blanket, then he blew two short toots on a small whistle, I guess signaling to the guards that we had finished lunch.

We galloped through the forests, laughing as we remember the attack on the castle and how I ran to the forest and met Georgia.

"Hey, I wonder how they are doing?" Maxon pondered as we stopped to catch our breath.

"Who?" I say, leaning over for a kiss.

"Georgia and August, silly! Who else?" He touched my lips with his finger, then stirred Charming to a gallop, hopping over a nearby fallen branch, leaving me in the dust.

"Hey! Wait up!" Carrot was becoming restless, and at the first click of my tongue, she leaps into a very fast gallop, smoothly going around the branch. I quickly caught up to Maxon, whose horse had to jump everything in sight, making his process through the dense forest very slow. Carrot slowed down, and she and Charming touched noses softly, just as Maxon and I kissed underneath an apple tree, petals slowly dancing their way to cover us. I pulled back and smiled. Maxon couldn't have planned a better day for me. We dismounted, and he pulled me down onto a different, cushier blanket, and slid another one over top of the both of us.

*America said, "Mmm! Oh my gosh, Maxon, this is sooooooo good! Luxurious, even!


	7. Chapter 7

This time, we decided to do something different than last time. I need to know whether I _finally_ get to ask for my old clothes, or reuse Jojo's. So, we are doing a public ceremony where Maxon and I will be leading a parade, and the very last float will be colored pink or blue depending on the gender. I can't wait! I would go find out now, but the float is strictly kept in shed out back with heavy guard around it. Fortunately, my maids are tasked with keeping me preoccupied with playing card games, or teaching Jonathan some words, or helping him stand. That's always the favorite part of my maids' day, when they get to excuse themselves to go hang out with Jojo for three hours. I can visibly see their eyes light up with excitement, and almost dim when their time is up.

"I can't believe our little Jojo almost a year old already!" I gushed to Maxon, barely

keeping the excitement out of my voice. Back in Carolina, we never had enough money to have even a small party, so I'm ecstatic that Jojo can have as big of a party as he (or I) want. He hasn't really had the opportunity to meet a lot of babies his age, so the party will mostly be adults.

However, I've been talking to Maxon to try to convince him to either set up a daycare for local children in the castle, or let Jonathan go to a local daycare, with a guard, of course.

"He does get kind of lonely in the castle. I can see it in his eyes. Maxon, Jojo deserves some kids his age to play with."

"Why isn't your company good enough? Plus, he has many friends throughout the working staff. And, while I said that I want peanut butter finger prints on my desk and cries ringing through the halls, I meant our children, not some random Seven from the town." Maxon firmly looks me in the eye.

"First of all, I was a Five, and I'd prefer if you showed a little respect for the castes you never made the time to meet with, and second, while he will have a new playmate in five months, he needs to interact with the people he'll one day govern. The only way you know about the outside world is from what I've told you."

"That's not true, I've seen some of the providences on tour, and-" Maxon starts to rebut, but a wave of my hand stops him short.

"You told me yourself, you have only seen the world from outside of your bedroom window. And even if you have seen some of the providences, all of the people you see wash up really well and stand rigidly because they want to look their best. Trust me, that's how I used to be. But that isn't really how they act. Each number has their own general personality, and the babies, they don't realize that there are these invisible lines, and I hope that they never will. If Jonathan meets them now, he'll understand that there are names and faces and personalities to his people, not just a block of things he has to govern." I start pacing back and forth, emphasizing my points with a stamp of my foot.

"Fine." Maxon exhales a gust of wind, giving in. I begin to smile, but then he stops me with a wave of his hand. "Wait. I'm not done yet. The only way I'm doing this is if we set up a daycare on the first floor. All of the children's parent's backgrounds will be checked from Angeles, and several members from every walk of life will be invited, and we can set up a new care for each child as they turn one. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough." I say with a sigh and a smile, and I hug him gratefully before dashing off to my room to get changed for the parade. My stomach is just beginning to peep out, and everyone's eyes will be trained there.


	8. Chapter 8

**Honestly, do you think that this story is too happy, and that it needs a little doom and gloom to spice it up, or that its fine the way it is? Message me with your thoughts!**

An hour later, I could barely breath, but my maids claimed I look radiant, so I hobbled out to the opening float, where two thrones were waiting side by side for us. I hopped, literally, up the ladder, and over to the throne, where the impossible task awaited: to sit down. In the end, I sort of ended up falling into the chair, and then calling Marlee over to help me wriggle into the right position.

"Marlee, I'm so glad you're here," I sighed as I finally found a comfortable position to sit in for an hour or two.

"Me too, America. I don't think I could have handled being an Eight without Maxon's help. I'm just glad the rest of the Eights in Illéa can now get that same kind of help from the exact same guy," Marlee stuffed the last blanket around my legs, as it was early February. Thank goodness Tina had the common sense to zip me into an almost slinky dress, not so poufy that we would never be able to tuck a blanket around me. Maxon's head popped up from the trap door concealing the ladder. He grinned at the sight of Marlee forcefully wrapping a thick blanket around my outstretched legs mermaid style, and me looking like the Incredible Hulk from one of the old comic books I found in the hidden library in the castle.

"You do know that the public will want to actually see your abdomen, not just guess that you are pregnant." Maxon shook his head as he walked over and kissed me on the blanket that is over my cheek. "By the way, I just dissolved the Sevens."

"You did what now?!" I practically screeched at Maxon, standing up from the chair, causing Marlee to face palm herself for letting me undo all of the work. But I could barely hide my shock. As I stood up, Maxon dropped into his chair. "Yes, and it's a great accomplishment, but people are starting to riot. Apparently, the populace has tuned in every once and awhile, and they are furious. A lot of Los Angeles Twos are mad that, here I quote them directly, 'their jobs will be overrun by filthy Eights and Sevens.' America, that kind of thinking is what kept us from doing this a long time ago." He sighed, disheartened, and ran his fingers through his hair. I took the few steps to him, shedding several blankets with each step. I sat down on his lap, and rested the tips of my fingers on his temples, pulling his face up to look at me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Band here: Sorry this doesn't even really count as a chapter. But I was writing it, and I just had to leave you with** ** _SOME_** **answers. You are seriously going to hate me after the final two paragraphs, especially since I'm not going to update anything more until around the end of the summer. I need some time to catch up on this fanfic, and to get ahead on a new one I'm already in the stages of writing.**

"Maxon, look. It's going to be okay. We are going to do this float, televise it, and hope for the best. When we get back to the palace, then you can worry about this problem. And, I'm not telling you to ignore the problem for forever, like the old President Wallace, or someone else from our history, but please just put on a nice face for the regular people of LA. They don't know about this yet, right?" Maxon shook his head.

"Actually, the Los Angeles people are the ones heading this." The float jolted slightly, and with it my jaw. Marlee suddenly jumped from the chair she had occupied, and rushed around the two chairs to gather up all of the blankets I'd dropped, then scurried her way down the ladder, while I rose from Maxon's lap to go stand at the railing surrounding us. I feel a warmth on my hand, and I look up from the ground creeping along below us, to my right, to Maxon's gentle face, then at the opening gates in front of us. We pulled out, in a sense, behind some mounted palace officers, and began waving to the people just outside our front door step as they took in our float design. Behind the folks pressed up against the barriers placed days ago, I see a line of people, garbed in black, baskets resting in their arms. Then the first fruit launches, and I take a blow to the stomach. Just as I can feel the float speeding up below us, and Maxon pulling me down, I stand up straight, and command to the people driving below us, "Stop the float."

I pop open the trapdoor, and climb through it, emerging out the concealed side. In the distance, I hear Maxon shouting at me to come back, to get on the float. I can feel bodyguards trying to pull me back, and I shrug them off. They finally get a clue, and lay off, though Aspen, now a bodyguard, is a few feet behind me as I remove the barriers. The people, my subjects, I guess, help me by pushing from their angle, and I begin to move through the populace, not trying to seem cold, but brushing off as many people as I can, while still appearing welcoming. I reach the layer of black clothed people.

"Why?"

"YOU. Who else? You destroyed the castes, integrating those worthless Eights in with us, purebred Twos?" I stand there, speechless, as this burly guy, their leader, I'm assuming, hurls insults at my face.

"Yeah. And you and your little stuck-up group are the very reason the castes had to be dissolved _now._ " I'm so absorbed with confronting this guy, I don't even see one of the men behind him slowly pull out a gun. I don't even feel the bullet. But Maxon and Aspen do.

 **Love you people who actually want to read this...**

 **I feel so bad...**

 **Wait, no, I don't. :] hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe**


	10. Chapter 10

**The long-awaited addition. Thanks be to humans for dealing with me for so long!**

I fall backwards, my stomach caving in, into a stranger, still reeling that someone shot me. Aspen is literally throwing people out of his way, as they crowded around me when I was confronting that man. In my mind, I think that Maxon has to be held back by guards. I know that that, at least, is the truth, in this scenario. Scooping me up and apologizing to the fragile older man I fell on, Aspen is plowing back through the crowds, now all too frantic to be orderly. I lift one arm gently up onto my stomach, but then screech in pain as I realize that that's where the bullet made contact with me.

 _The baby,_ I think frenetically, _my baby. Is he or she hurt?_

Aspen reaches the float and sails over the bars at the top. The car underneath powers up, and we shoot back to the castle, moving too fast for the men, women, and children who gathered here today to glimpse us. Maxon rips open my bodice of the dress I was forced into, and sees my corset-like contraption. Throwing his head back and laughing, I race in my mind back to this morning.

 _"_ _Miss, it's better to be safe than sorry, especially with the baby."_

 _"_ _Shelli, what's my name again?"_

 _"_ America, _it's better to be safe than sorry. Better?" she asked, giving me a half-smile, and a shaky thumbs-up._

 _I match it, and agree to her proposal._

 _"_ _Fine, the bullet-proof one it is, even if it is WAY too stiff." At that, they all break out into smiles and giggles, and I remember a moment from the Selection where Mary, Lucy, and Anne had to help me with luring Maxon in physically._

 _I shudder._

Oh, the corset! I raise myself up onto my elbows and see Maxon move from my side to his knees under my head like a pillow. I fumble my fingers along the float, and then my dress material, and finally I reach my stomach. Whimpering slightly, I delicately run my tips across my belly, gasping in pain when I make contact with where I was hit. Looking down even further, I see the bullet itself lodged in my bodice, thankfully. I must be bruising pretty badly. Looking up, I see Maxon's eyes, the fear now gone from them, thanks to this discovery. He brushes my lips as I'm lifted on to a stretcher, now that we are inside the palace gates. But the doctors who flutter around me begin to mutter and look at me unusually. My current outfit prevents me from moving up onto my elbows so that I can see everything that is happening around me, but as I gaze into Maxon's eyes above me, time just sort of slips away again.

When he finally looks away, I realized the doctors have taken me into the place and I am now in the hospital wing. Again. My corset has been ripped away from my body, and freezing blue gel is being squeezed on my stomach. And then it all hits me. _I was shot at. I was rushed back to the palace. The doctors are checking my baby. Everything should be fine._ The cool metal brushes my tender stomach, and all the nurses peer into the small computer to my left. One gasps and rushes off, returning seconds later with a doctor. Draping a sheet over my lower body, the doctor reaches up between my legs, double checking everything.

"Your majesty, I don't think you have realized this yet, but you have miscarried. There is no baby." His words, barely audible over the gentle roar of the hospital wing, still pierced my heart. Maxon's body crumples as the last word leaves the doctor's lips, and he slips out of the room. Almost as if to match my mood, the sky booms and the heavens open above Angeles.

"But...how?" I whimper. "You were sure of it a month ago." I taste salt as I am talking and brush my cheek. Sure enough, I'm crying.

"America-," the doctor starts to say something, but I cut him off as I raise myself up off the table slowly and sort of stagger out of the room. I lose track of time and just let my feet take me wherever I need to be. In the end, I find myself in my room from the Selection. I crash into the bed, and unleash my distraught until my eyes shut out the rest of the world.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry this is a little late. Friday was just super crazy. I think I'm going to stick with the biweekly updates. Keeps some of the pressure off.**

Years go by. Jonathan is now six and completely fascinated with his world. All of Illéa is convinced I'm another Amberly. Maxon and I have been trying and trying but to no end. And I know in my heart that Jonathan is meant to have a sibling, and Maxon is meant to have a daughter.

The affairs of the country haven't been much better. Maxon shut himself away for most of the first year. Castes Eight and Seven are still gone, but he hasn't made any move to get rid of the others. And then the southern rebels attacked. Thanks to the former northern rebels and the palace guards, the damage wasn't as bad as the "Selection Attack," as it was dubbed, but it was still bad. We just haven't been able to bounce back to where we were a half a decade ago. But, now, enough reminiscing. Back to the present, where I doubt my every step around Maxon.

The carpet padding my foot falls, I slip into Maxon's somber office, his head down studying a fleet of papers. My hands first rest on the back of the chair, then, after a pause, his shoulders. Faster than lightening, I feel him tense up, but even faster, he relaxes. Barely looking behind him, he hands the papers to me and pulls another paper closer to him from the stack near the edge of his desk. Feeling defeated, I leave his office and enter mine. No loving glance, no quick kiss, not even a whisper of a smile on his face. The question crosses my mind, yet again, as it had been for a year or so now. _Where is Maxon?_ Skimming over the top sheet, I can see that it is a motion to open schools for former lower caste members. _Good,_ I think. _He's finally doing something about the castes again. Maybe_ _Illéa_ will _be casteless in my lifetime._ Hours pass. In the background, I hear someone clear their throat. Maxon is shyly standing in the doorway. Something inaudible escapes his lips. My head tilts in question, and he glances up to see it. I guess because I didn't respond to whatever it was that he said. Exhaling loudly, he finally meets my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says the words softly. "I'm sorry that I have ignored you, and that you have had to take on my workload just to keep this country afloat. And I know that these are just words and that our marriage is on shaky ground, but you deserve to know that I still love you, and that's never going to change." His voice, growing louder and louder with each statement, wrapped itself around me. His eyes, a deep chestnut brown, shedding tears that ran glistening tracks down his face. I stand up and walk towards him, slowly, surely. Brushing away a falling tear from his cheek, I whisper in his ear, "I never doubted you."


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm so sorry for the wait. I think I finally have to face the fact that I'm never going to be one of those writers that can update like clockwork every week. I just have too much going on. Again, I'm so sorry to all of the people who do want to read this. But I'm probably dreaming if I think that people actually read this.**

My eyes flutter open. I lift my head up off of my desk and take in my surroundings. _Office. Mid-afternoon. Papers with a little drool on them._ Oops. I think about what I thought was really happening, but what must have been a dream. I knew it seemed off for Maxon to show emotion like that all of a sudden. The caste change is real, it's what I was drooling on. I must have fallen asleep after I signed it. I yawn, still kind of tired, and stand up. Sliding into Maxon's office, I snake along the walls, just managing to avoid his notice by moving at a snail's pace. But then I reach the hall connecting to the main hallway and dash down it, eager to find the one thing that kept me in shape. As usual, he scampers past me in the main hallway. Mary rushes up to me.

"Hey, America," she breaths it out, panting. "So…"

"Yeah. Gotta catch him all the time now." I grin and take off down the hall, Mary keeping pace. He's done this so many times now I'm finding it easier to run in my tighter work pants and heels. Within no time, we are right behind him. He glances back and shrieks in delight. Putting on more speed, he races around the corner, and I'm right behind him. As I keep running, I stretch my arms out and finally grab him around his waist. Lifting him up of the the ground, I take a few more steps to slow myself down. He wriggles and giggles in my arms but I don't let him go.

"You little monster! Why do you always have to run away from my friends? They are just trying to help Mommy out by watching you so she can get some work done," I say to him as I am walking around the corner, where Mary is waiting. I tickle him to make my point, and his screams fill the hallway and the connecting rooms. I hear pounding feet, and I turn around to see Maxon outside of his office.


End file.
